Stop and See the Blossoms
by DominoTyler
Summary: For marisa lee's contest! Blossom has been going quite fast. Will she ever be convinced to stop and smell the flowers?


Hey! Decided to enter marisa lee's writing contest because why the hell not, amiright?

Theme Word: Flower

Word Limit: 1000

Pairing: Blossom and Boomer

...

_You should stop to smell the flowers every once in a while, Red._

The sentence hadn't registered until she had dropped all of her books on her bedside table and had collapsed into her bed, the wind leaving her in a gust. The irony struck her. Here she was, not taking the boy's advice because she was too busy opposing it.

The past months had been brutal - only a junior in high school, Blossom was enrolled in several courses at the Townsville Community college along with her own high school courses, plus volunteer work and crime fighting.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd stopped to even look at a flower.

Casting one look at her pile of books and feeling nothing but revulsion, Blossom tied back her hair, which had fallen loose during the day, and left the house.

Buttercup was at football practice and Bubbles was at an art show. Blossom felt guilty that she didn't even know what the Professor was up to these days.

Hands in her pockets, she headed off in the direction of the park, where the art show was going on. She vaguely remembered seeing her sister setting up her canvases on the stage when she'd run by, stumbling and dropping her pencil case.

That's when Boomer had kindly handed it to her before giving her his generous advice.

Blossom sighed as she approached now. Boomer was now up on the stage, talking to some people in fancy clothes, and Bubbles was packing up her things.

Blossom slowly made her way to her sister, who was struggling to zip her art bag. Blossom took over and Bubbles stepped back, hands hanging awkwardly at her sides.

"Sorry I missed your show," Blossom said, frowning.

Bubbles shrugged. "Doesn't matter, really. What made you stop by?"

Blossom shook her head. "Dunno. I just kind of realized I was going pretty fast and needed to take a break."

Bubbles nodded. "You've got that right. Do you realize this is the first time we've spoken in almost three weeks?"

Blossom was stunned. The shock almost made her want to vomit as she realized it was the truth - the last time they'd spoken was on the birthday she hadn't even remembered was coming up.

Boomer's name was announced and there was some applause.

"Ooh!" Bubbles exclaimed, bobbing up and down slightly. "Come on, let's go and look at Boomer's work! It's really good." She winked as if she knew something Blossom didn't. "I think you're gonna like it."

Blossom hesitated slightly before following her sister to the string of seats at the very front of the rows and rows of metal folding chairs reserved for the artists. There were two open chairs, which Blossom and her sister took.

The first thing Blossom saw was Boomer. He was the tallest of his brother's and by far the lankiest. His mop of hair was no longer baby blonde - more dirty, as if he hadn't washed it in several days, which he probably hadn't. He had a dusting of stubble on his chin and above his lip and his ears were speckled in piercings.

He had changed quite a bit since she'd last paid any attention to him. She vaguely remembered a period when Bubbles first became friends with him where she had one of her first big spats with the professor when he wouldn't let her get a nose piercing. Now Blossom knew where she got the idea from.

The next thing Blossom saw was his rows and rows of paintings - all of red flowers.

Watercolor gardens of reds and oranges and yellows. Flowers blended, one into the next, and never seemed to stop. Some were close-ups of single flowers, some of single petals.

Blossom's particular favorite was a painting of a sole cherry blossom colored pure red and floating on a clear river that was so realistic Blossom was sure it must have been a picture. This was the painting Boomer ended up winning an award for.

When the show was over and all of the artists were setting up their art in their own individual stands where park-goers could admire them and ask questions, Blossom quickly helped Bubbles set up before she quickly made her way over to Boomer's stand on the other side of the park.

Not watching where she was going, however, she tripped over a tricycle and fell face-first towards Boomer's stand.

Luckily she was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled back roughly, clunking her head against a bony chest.

"Are you okay?" asked a very concerned voice.

Blossom shook her head to clear it before realizing that she probably looked like she was saying she wasn't okay. "I'm fine," she clarified and the hand holding her steadied her, shoving the tricycle out of the way.

Blossom turned and saw who she'd expected to be there. "What did I just tell you about slowing down, there, Red?"

Blossom blushed. "I'm so sorry. I just came over to tell you how much I loved your painting and almost destroyed it in the process."

Boomer laughed. "It's no big deal. I made it for you. I wouldn't be taking it home anyways, destroyed or no."

"For me?"

Boomer grinned. "Maybe if you'd slow down, you'd know I've been trying to catch your attention for months now."

Blossom felt her blush increasing.

"I always stop to look at flowers," Boomer continued, stepping closer to her. "Namely, one blossom in particular."

Blossom was quite unsure of how to respond. "Well, I really do like your painting."

"There are many more where that came from, Red," Boomer replied. "You're an excellent muse."

The painting caught Blossom's eye again, and there she could see the meaning. She was floating on a river of Boomer. He would keep her slowed down enough to see things. Help her to not let them pass her by.

And she honestly did not want him to pass her by.


End file.
